


Sugar, Sweet

by neuroticscales



Series: Sugar, Sweet [1]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Gen, M/M, wow look a coffeeshop au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-24
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2017-12-27 12:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/978677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neuroticscales/pseuds/neuroticscales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bro works at a coffeeshop, and is very done with the human race.</p><p>John is a customer at said shop and is the very thing that fuels Bro's hate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a drabble series, all with the same storyline, just jumping around in time a lot. Did that make sense?   
> \-----  
> Oh wow, another coffeeshop AU. But John is the one hitting on Bro this time, oh how the tables have turned.
> 
> I'm making this sound dumb, I swear it's not.
> 
> And thanks for reading!

You are Bro Strider, and who is this idiot.

~~~~~

"Four sugars?" you echo. "Four." He nods, looking confused. 

"Yeah, four. What's wrong with that?" You chuckle.

"Well, technically, nothing," you say with a smirk. "Name?" 

"John, with an 'h'," you scribble the entire phrase onto his cup, twisting at the torso awkwardly so he can't see. He squirms, visibly annoyed. Good.

"You're pretty crabby for a guy in customer service." Who does he even think he is? You lower your shades, fiery amber eyes a warning to keep his mouth shut.

It doesn't work.

"Oookay," he drags the word on for seconds. "So, what's up with the shades? Isn't that against the dress code, or something?" God, what a dork. You push them back up, filling a to-go cup with black coffee.

"I've been here a while," is all you say.

"I like them." Your head snaps up from the sugar you're pouring into his disgusting coffee.

"What?" You almost don't believe what you're hearing. And then you don't believe what you're seeing. 

Because he winks at you. Winks. You don't even know this kid and he fucking winked at you. And it's not just a normal wink-- maybe that would've been okay. But no- it was a full-on, cheesy, 80s movie wink, baring his teeth and scrunching his face up.

"What the hell is this kid's deal?" you think. You shove the cup across the counter to which he takes it and frowns. He has, apparently, seen what you wrote. He gives a girly "ugh!" and sits at a booth near the back of the shop, still within your line of vision. 

"You're insane!" he exclaims.

"Thanks hon, I try my hardest," you snap back, baring your teeth in a wide grin. He gives a little huff, and slumps down in his seat pathetically. You hope he doesn't notice you watching him.

He does. He gives you a smug smile and sips his drink.

"When do you get off?" he asks far too casually. 

"Oh, all the time," you snipe back.

He sighs like you're ruining his life. "Ugh, just answer the question!"

You pause in refilling the coffeepot to glare at him.

"Come on, you walked right into that one."

He pulls his shoulders to his ears sheepishly. "So I didn't see that coming. Sue me."

"You won't see it coming tomorrow night, either." Now it's your time to wink; he looks slightly uncomfortable or maybe like he's trying to hide a boner, which would be uncomfortable anyway. 

"Fuck off," he says, angrily staring into his drink.

"Ooh, a feisty one," you say sarcastically, going back to your petty work tasks.

"Can you finally just answer my question?" he says softly, sounding genuinely upset. But you're not one to fall for a dorky kid's tricks. You're not stupid, after all.

"Mm, guess," comes your reply. He splutters and throws up his hands.

"I don't know! Uh, in five minutes, with me?" he exclaims. He sighs, you scoff. 

"Subtle." He gives you, presumably, the most evil look he can muster, although it looks more like an angry puppy.

"C'mon, dude," he whines.

"Why so persistent?" He stalls and sputters again-- does this kid know how to talk?

"Uh, 'cause you're hot?" He says it like a question. No, that is not a blush spreading across your cheeks, no sir. Striders do not blush, especially not this Strider. Nope.

"Oh, am I?" You flip your sunglasses up to your work cap, resting them on the brim. He winced and turns back around, so, being the nice guy you are, try to burn holes in the back of his head by staring at it. You can tell he knows because he's fidgeting; popping his drink open and closed, messing with his hair-- doing everything he possibly can to not look at you. You stare as you steam milk, which is the loudest and most annoying noise this awful goddamn shop can make. As it screeches he is growing more uncomfortable, squirming in his seat. It is absolutely hilarious. 

Saving both of you from the awkward moment, a girl walks into the shop; she has buck teeth and glasses and asks for a "chai tea with extra sugar, thanks!" You practically do a double take, looking from the girl to John-with-an-h and back again while you take her money. She looks at you, obviously confused, and follows your eyes to the back of the shop. Spotting John, she grins and waves at him.

"Hey John!!!" she calls. He whips around, jumps a bit, and waves. 

"Hi Jade," he says weakly, looking defeated. You raise an eyebrow at the girl, Jade, who gives you a huge smile.

"John is my little brother!" Your brow furrows.

"How little we talkin'?"

"We're both seventeen. But I'm older by four minutes!" All you can do is smile awkwardly.

"Twins," you say through gritted teeth. "Great." Seventeen? SEVENTEEN?! You could practically be his father! You try to calm down, though your hand still shakes as you hand Jade her tea.

"Bye John!" She waves shyly at you as she leaves. John turns to you, you gape at him.

"Seventeen? You're seventeen?" He looks like he wants to abscond the fuck out of there.

"Yeah, why?" Is he serious right now? 

"I'm thirty-eight!" He shrugs.

"I don't have a problem with that if you don't."

"Uh, I kind of do," you say. Even if he is adorable, you must hold back.

"C'mon man, lighten up!" he says. 

Whoa, fuck that. You are lighter than a feather, lighter than air. You could have an on/off switch you're so light. Okay, that was a bad analogy. This kid is messing with your head.

"Fine. I'll indulge your freaky, reverse-cougar ways. When and where?" He practically bounces in his seat. 

"Tomorrow at... noon? Is noon good?" You nod yes very slowly; you don't work Fridays.

"Alright, we've got the time. Place?"

"How about here?" Seriously, kid? You mull it over; maybe it won't be so bad-- you get free drinks, a cute boy... sounds good to you.

"Alright." He smiles hugely and leaps out of his seat.

"Okay. Bye!" he calls, moving to go out the door. "Wait! What's your name, anyway?" 

"You can call me Bro."


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John and Bro go on their date.

"Sooo..." John peeks over his mug at you. You refuse to find it adorable. "What's your real name? I can't keep calling you Bro." You glare at him.

"Well, you're gonna have to, 'cause Bro is my real name."

"Bro is your real name," John echoes, giving you an incredulous look.

"Give or take." John sighs. God, for a kid, he sure does seem to have the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Your parents must hate you if they named you Bro."

"Your parents must hate you 'cause you're such a spoiled brat," you snap.

"I am not a-" he falters as you raise an eyebrow, "okay, I am kinda spoiled, but I'm not a brat."

"Yeah, I can see that, mister Rolex." He takes his hands off the table and folds them in his lap.

"We're well-off, sure, but not rich!" You nod slowly, making sure to really layer on the sarcasm.

"Right. What school do you go to?" He's silent for a minute.

"Parkwell," he mumbles, bowing his head.

"Huh," you begin, getting nervous. "I have a... brother that goes there. Dave." John giggles.

"My best friend's name is Dave! Dave Strider?" 

Fuck. You freeze as your blood runs cold and hope the shock doesn't show on your face.

"He does talk about his brother a lot, but he does a lot of sweet ninja stuff, so I don't think it's you!" The incredibly ridiculous statement is followed by more giggling. Even you're stifling a laugh.

"Yeah..."

"So how'd you even afford to send your brother to private school? Are your parents rich or something?," he asks.

"Nope. Parents aren't around."

"Oh, I'm sorry," his face falls. "Then how?" 

You tell yourself to definitely NOT mention the puppet porn.

"I have some other... occupations," you say. Please don't mention the puppet porn. 

"Hmm! Like what?" You choose your words carefully. Just... not the puppet porn.

"I have directed and starred in a few... short films."

"Wow!," he breathes. "Anything I've heard of?"

"Heh, probably not." John huffs for probably the millionth time and folds his arms.

"Just tell me what they're called!" Your stare nearly bores holes through his chest.

"Nope. Final answer."

"Ugh!," John whines. "You haven't told me anything about yourself."

"Neither have you," you retort, "so start coughin' up some answers, buddy."

"Um, well, I'm seventeen; tall, dark, and handsome; like long walks on the beach," you punch him in the arm as he giggles. God, always with the giggling. He waves his hand around as his laughter subsides. 

"Okay, okay. Um...," he taps a finger to his chin, "I really like movies. And magic! My dad took me to a magic show a few days ago and it was really cool. Oh! And jokes! I prank Dave like, all the time." Well, that explains why Dave came home from school soaking wet with no explanation more than a grunt. 

You can't believe that the kid you want to bury your cock in is your brother's best friend. That's like the most fucked up thing ever. You want to say that'll stop you, but you're not so sure. He may be a huge dork, but he's a hot dork. That ass? Plush as fuck. And you've never been a sucker for baby blues, but his are shooting straight to your dick. Man, you haven't had to hide a boner since high school. A brief moment of sick nostalgia is felt as you squirm in your seat.

"Hmm," you start, crossing one leg over the other. "Well, I'm pretty fuckin' weird, so I dunno how much you wanna know about me." John grabs your arm excitedly.

"All of it!" Okay, you know what? Its time to throw caution to the wind. If you wanna bone this dork, which you definitely do, he's probably gonna need to go to your place. God damn it.

"The short films I told you about...," you take a deep breath, "are porn." 

To say his jaw dropped would be an understatement. His jaw quit school, had a falling-out with its family, and now lives in a refrigerator box on the side of the road. His jaw is fucked.

"Are you serious?," he screeches. Heads immediately turn your way.

"Shh! Is it really that big of a deal?," you whisper. His eyes nearly pop out of his head.

"Yes, oh my god! It is a huge deal!," he says, only slightly less deafening. 

"I don't think they are?," you say.

"...Can I see them?" You gape at his hopeful smile. 

"Uh, no?," you say. He is visibly disappointed, slumping down in his chair. "Thought that one'd be obvious, man." His upper lip juts out, pouting.

"Why?" You scoff.

"I think that's pretty obvious too, kid."

"Pleeease?" He puts his hands together like he's praying.

"What did I just fuckin' say? Apparently they don't teach english at your snooty-ass prep school." John groans and dejectedly sips his coffee.

"I also like uh...," you falter. Jesus fuck, you're boring, "swords." What the hell? You mentally slap yourself for saying something so stupid. "I mean, I like fighting. Like practice fighting," you shake your head. "With swords. Katanas." 

"Really?," he looks like he swallowed a lemon. Shit. Oh god, backpedal.

"Yeah, I'm training my lil bro for the real world. You know?" He nods slowly in understanding.

"Yeah, cool!" An awkward silence follows. Your drinks have long since gone cold and you sit staring into yours. 

"Ugh, you're so quiet!," John's voice cuts through the silence.

"Not usually," you start. "I just can't figure out what to say to you." His brows knit together in confusion. 

"Why?" You shake your head

"You're just... you're really cute and I'm awkward." You add a shrug and a mumbled 'I dunno', embarrassed. John giggles.

"Heh, I thought you were the intimidating one!," he replies. "But you're really a big, cute dork!" Your face reddens. 

"I like it," he says as he slips his pinky through yours. Then he's leaning across the table with his eyes closed, and his lips are pressed to yours. It's painfully sweet- his lips move smoothly, gently, and his fingers intertwine with yours. He pulls away with a lazy smile and begins absentmindedly stroking your hand.

"You're pretty sweet, kid," you say. He laughs.

"I know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so it's cute now, but I'm officially blowing the whistle to indicate "smut is ahead". All aboard the frotting train.


	3. Chapter 3, part 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John comes over to Bro's house. Unfortunately, hilarity does not ensue.

“Whoa!” John gasps. “Your place is awesome.” You bow your head, shaking out a “no”. 

“It’s really not. It’s messy and awful.” John shakes his head furiously.

“I think it’s great! And… huge,” he swallows, hard, like it’s a lot to take in. Which, you suppose, it pretty much is. Not many middle-aged men have fast food containers, shitty swords, and phallic puppets covering the floor like a second carpet. You’re used to living in squalor, but this brat sure as hell ain't. You bring home catches all the time, but they don’t ever matter. A one-night-stand pales in comparison to this kid. You’re pretty new to this thing. This. Relationship thing. Your inner monologue-ing is interrupted by John asking you something and you quickly shake yourself out of your reverie.

“What?” Oh god, he’s holding a Smuppet. 

“What is this?” he giggles, squeezing its nose. Oh my god. You slap the Smuppet out of his hand. 

“Put that down.” His eyes widen and he picks it back up.

“Why?” he asks, brow furrowed.

“It’s…” you trail off as he pokes his finger into the Smuppet’s ass- a hole you’ve shoved your dick into on several different occasions. “It’s a puppet. A… a toy.” He shoves his finger deeper into the Smuppet and you see the horrible realization cross his face. You realize that particular Smuppet has a fleshlight embedded in it. You also realize that Smuppet had your dick embedded in it earlier and is probably still wet. He recoils and pulls his hand out of the puppet, tossing it back onto the floor. He wipes his hand on his jeans, giving you a look of sheer terror.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I told you to put it down. I warned you, bro.” John gives you a look you can’t quite decipher and chuckles awkwardly.

“Dave says that like, all the time.” You raise an eyebrow.

“Says what?”

“‘I warned you, bro’.” As if on cue, the front door slams open. But the only other person that has a key is currently hanging out with his dorky friends, and better not be home already.

“One sec,” you begin, “and don’t touch anything else.” John hold up his hands defensively.

“I don’t think I want to.” You shoot him a grin before jogging over to the door. You aren’t pleased with who you see.

“Why are you home early?,” you snap through gritted teeth. Dave shrugs, studying his nails.

“Felt like it.” He tries to shoulder past you into the apartment, but you hold your ground.

“I thought I told you to be gone until midnight.” He just shrugs again. Fuck.

“Well, I’m here now, so…” He manages to elbow past you and strides toward the living room.

“What dude has the pleasure of potting your pink to-” He stops as soon as he spots John, who waves at you with a confused look. 

“Hi, Dave! What are you doing here?” Dave scoffs.

“For a private school kid, you’re pretty fuckin’ stupid.” John’s face falls. Dave jerks his thumb towards the door.

“Roof,” he spits, and flashsteps out of sight. You’ll take time to be proud of that later; right now, you’re too pissed.

“Can you wait here a couple minutes?” God, you’re so embarrassed, but John smiles brightly and nods. 

“Sure!”

“Good, thanks,” you reply. “Just… no more foam ass grabbing.”  
\----------  
You walk up the steps like a normal person to give him a little time to cool off. When you open the door to the roof, Dave has unearthed your old sparring dummy and is violently striking it with his katana. His shades are off, and when you get closer you can see tears streaming angrily down his face.

“Dude!” you shout. He doesn’t stop until you physically intervene, grabbing his wrist and wrenching the sword from his hand. You hold it high above your head and he retaliates by repeatedly pounding on your chest with his fists. You wrap your unoccupied arm around his, locking his hands between your arms and chest. He stomps once on the ground, for good measure. You slide his sword across the roof and grab his jaw, shaking his head a little.

“The fuck you think you’re doin’?,” you shout. “You think acting like a two year old is funny?” Spittle sprays his face as you scream and he winces. 

“Can I have my hands back? You just gave me a free shower.” You wrap your shirtsleeve around your hand and wipe his face off, like he really is the baby he’s acting like.

“Not until you tell me why you’re so pissed.” His face contorts into an ugly scowl.

“Cause you’re fucking my best friend!,” he exclaims. You let go of his hand and he wipes his eyes.

“That’s my decision to make,” you say. “And if it makes you feel any better, he was the one hitting on me.” 

“Bullshit!,” he growls.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, kid.” Dave laughs in your face, ugly and mocking.

“So, not telling me that you’re boning John doesn’t count as lying?” He shoves your chest. “You asshole.”

“Listen, lil man. I’m sorry, I really am,” you reply. “I didn’t wanna be a dick, and-”

“Well, it’s too late for that!,” Dave interrupts.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth!,” you retort. You remove your hat and run a hand through your sweaty hair.

“I told you, this wasn’t my decision. At least, not initially,” you say. “But now I’m really in deep shit, ‘cause I like him. Like, for real.” Dave grimaces.

“Yeah, okay,” he spits sarcastically. The tone enrages you because you know he learned that from you.

“We’ll talk about this later. Now, you can either stay here and turn that dummy into stuffing, or leave.” Your voice is stern, controlled.

“Yeah, so you can stay here and fuck a seventeen-year-old senseless.” His voice shudders and cracks, showing his age. “I guess I’ll stay on the roof. Blow off steam.” You’re walking back to the door and Dave calls your name.

“Bro.” You stop, frozen with your hand on the doorknob. “You really disappointed me, man.”

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is part one of a two part chapter. Yeah. Again I'm telling y'all that sex is ahead. So watch out.


	4. Chapter 3, part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am not going to apologize for the shitshow that is this chapter.

You wrench the door open to reveal John, walking up the stairs. You startle and he giggles, that asshole. He jogs up the rest of the way and smirks at you.

 

“What do you want?,” you question.

 

“Your dick.” You shove him jokingly but he looks at you like you pushed him down the stairs. “You could’ve killed me!” You scoff and stare at him until he gives you a real answer. 

 

“I wanted to see how your talk was going.” You shake your head.

 

“Not so good.”

 

“Well,” he starts, lacing his fingers around your neck. “I could make it better.” You feel sweat drip down your back as he moves his hands to your chest, stroking down until he reaches your belt.  You choke out a weak protest and grab for his hands.

 

“What? Here?”

 

“Yes, here,” John says, trying to undo your belt. “Now take off your pants.”

 

“God, okay,” you reply. “Pushy.” You take off your belt and awkwardly slide your pants off without removing your shoes. You stumble backwards hard into the door, and John reaches down to rip off your shoes and pants, tossing them down the stairs. The soft thud they make sounds like bricks and you suddenly feel very naked.

 

“What if someone sees us?,” you ask worriedly. He looks at you like you’re an idiot.

 

“Then they see us. I take it you’re not a fan of voyeurism?”

 

“Not really, actually. Of all the freaky things I’m into, that’s not really one of them,” you reply honestly.

 

“What  _ are _ you into?,” he asked, looking mischievous. “Other than puppets and porn, of course.”

 

“Um. I don’t really like getting into kinks this early into a relationship,” you lie. In actuality, most of your relationships have been started by your kinks. John just makes you so nervous.

 

“C’moooon, man,” he whines. “Give me one, at least.” You exhale dejectedly. Fine.

 

“BDSM?,” you offer.

 

“Now that I can work with,” he grins wickedly and jesus fuck, your dick is hard. 

 

“So, what do you focus on? Bondage? Fireplay? Asphyxiation? Hot wax?” He rattles off the list of kinks like a professional.

 

“Pretty much all of the above,” you reply.

 

“And please, dear god, tell me you’re a sub,” he says, seeming to ignore your statement. “Or at the very least, a switch.” You won’t admit to this kid that you’re the subbiest sub to ever exist.

 

“I’m… a switch.” 

 

“Great,” he says. “Tonight, you’re a sub.”

 

“Great,” you echo. You inwardly sigh in relief. 

 

He drops down to his knees, staring up and directly into your eyes. You can feel his hot breath on your cock as you anticipate his lips slowly closing over the head. He presses your hips into the door with both hands and begins to suck you through the material. Aching to get more of his mouth on you, you guide him to where you want it and he slowly pulls down the material of your underwear away from your now soaking wet cock. He sucks on two of his fingers and slowly swirls his fingers around your entrance. He wraps his hand around your dick and you involuntarily lurch forward, searching for more contact. He pulls a bit too hard and takes his hand away. You groan at him and he raises an eyebrow.

 

"No thrusting," he commands. You swallow hard. He quickly slides his wet fingers into you and scissors them, and you let out a hissing moan. "And no talking." He wraps his hand around your throat and digs his slender fingers into your skin, pushing hard against your windpipe. You sputter and choke, but you know he knows you like it when your hand tightens around his shirt sleeve and your cock twitches. He moves closer to you and you feel his fingers pull out of you. You would tell him you don't need any more preparation because wow, you've done this a lot, but you're too busy being choked. Apparently he can read your mind, or maybe just doesn't give a shit, because the next thing you feel is his cock prodding your entrance. He thrusts into you, seeming not to give a shit about the state of your ass when he's done with you because he rams in all the way to the hilt. 

 

"F-fuck," you cry as he immediately finds your prostate and thrusts into it even harder than before. You feel his throbbing cock deep inside you, your body tensing every time he thrusts. 

 

"Do you need a safeword?,” he says. You grunt and try to nod in reply, but his hand is still locked firmly on your windpipe. “Okay. How about smuppet?” 

 

“S-sure,” you manage to squeak.

 

“Great. That’s a hell of a mood killer. Those things kind of freak me out, dude,” he confesses. You’re silent, what a surprise. He slams into you over and over, hand pinning you to the door and restricting your breath the whole time. 

 

“You know, for an old coot, you’re pretty hot,” he breathes. 

 

“You know, for an asshole, you're pretty… asshole-y,” you croak. John  _ mm-hmm _ s and slams his cock into you as hard as he can. All you can do is let out a soft groan. It may not seem like it, but you're enjoying yourself more than you thought you would. He leans in to nip at your ear and his hot breath on your neck makes you shiver. God, you haven't been fucked this well in ages. Nothing could ruin this moment.

 

“ _ Fuck _ ,” John says, biting back a moan. “I'm gonna cum soon, dude.”

 

“Good,” you reply weakly as your head bangs against the door over and over as he thrusts into you, deciding not to comment on how pathetic his threshold is. You’re trying not to focus on the head pain, but instead the sudden euphoric rush to your head you feel as John’s hand tightens on your throat. Fuck, you feel like you’re going to pass out. Your vision is going blurry at this point but John soldiers on unwittingly.

 

“John, I think-” you start, John interrupting you with a strained hiss. 

  
“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum, dude, hold on,” he moans.  He lets out a soft “ _ fuck”  _ and you feel his hot cum fill you up, right before blacking out. The last thing you remember is John squealing and attempting to catch you as you fell to the hard cement floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, as always!! Comments are always welcome (and encouraged!). I love u all.


End file.
